After the departure of Jean-Marc Sylvestre slice of 7am-9am, its unfathomable analysis écomico-depressive-autoritaro in bad faith, capitalist-slave, only on Friday remained a sad day on the long waves of the round house. Yet on Friday is a day conveniently located in the sacro-secular week, one where you can relax the toe at work, where we share a drink in the evening to meet at dawn on the main square to watch the sun sunrise on the beautiful Marianne, even in the subway, we manage to persuade the world has begun the slow motion and is less mouth. Because on Friday, whatever has to be done, regardless of the urgency in our little lives we wish flawless on Friday, it is too late to change that. That day is a highlight, as they say in music, a sort of indefinite waiting, always too long and jubilant that closes the staccato of my prestissimo 5 working days for us to share in the Adagio amoroso week end, we will ring the bell soon, and a number of which has already begun in a requiem tenuto without any surprise and government. Rigor is a way to deceive when you lack imagination. Tenuto ma non animato. Correct but soulless.
Friday then, and Mr. Val to command a column from dawn well into, 7:53, France is standing for a long time what anyone says, as his colleagues in turn Guillon and M. Porte, each excelling in their field, sometimes at odds but impossible to compare, so stop the comparisons sterile. But on Friday
So therefore Mr Val. Like Mr. Val for his most human: the paradox assumed, the complex profile, background inimitable, and that he probably had dared to imagine in the morning by cutting. He is a man, a true, which it does not count, which came in middle age and who has finished the pranks and jokes for schoolboys. Nothing more scary that these people who serve you the same speech, the first rumblings of spring in their final squirt of saliva when the hour of agony winter is coming. Thank you Mr. Val to be the real man and not a bronze statue, also known as bronze, which in slang franchouillard all, reminds us that it can flow, like everything else that comes to the throne. Laws of gravity, the splendor and grandeur, which always end in water coil or any access to sewerage. Humans are perishable, and without great ideas, which they are slightly less unfortunately. But on Friday
So therefore Mr Val, the most human of men then. I do not like Mr. Val for his most human: the misplaced pride, vindictiveness binary discourse opportunist, that he himself would have scoffed at night, humming. He is a man, a truth which we knead moral view from the crew to jump out of bed in the guise of taking bold positions. Nothing more scary than the people who reactivate the chimera of Dorian Gray, who in the guise of leading man who wants to have a beautiful old soul who no longer stale. Sine, the Elysées, France Inte, apple, details of the story.
You can not blame a man for employees separating from divergent points of view or sense ethical and moral, since this word would summarize all of this conversion.
You can not blame a man to listen to the sirens when they come within range of his hearing, he made a long journey, it goes a rest, and perhaps even construct does it's cozy cabin on the shore, even if the surroundings are full of sharks.
You can not blame a human editor, newspaper proprietor, 'ACTUALS', singer, writer in one way or another, to accept a position as director of one of the most listened to public radio, and thereby accept the challenges and excitement that such an appointment should generate.
You can not blame a man newly appointed director to make changes in its workforce, it is estimated that some are not in place and they would be much better elsewhere.
You can not blame a man to follow his path, but his way is always exposed to criticism. Criticism and censorship are two words that Mr. Val range does seem it not in the same drawer as it does not support one, while by posing as the last opponent on the other. To listen, and try to understand his rhetorical conservative sisi I stress, only some elected officials may administer a valid argument against him, and on any other subject, the rest is inaudible miasma of jealousy aggressive Internet-borne Satan, who maliciously try to get a hearing on his back. Paranoia when you hold us. Sufficiency when you we live. When we take it you delirious.
Mr. Val has this property that was the word for him, the background of high school most efficient manner, the "I did everything alone, do not bother me, but But above all, Mr. Val has this rather widespread, which makes him look like any average person when she drank and some hacker fasting: it Truth, or foul, it does or says is good, and always at the end that old Bush-fallacy, which is public speech that the lump is in the bechamel sauce on Sunday afternoon, everyone felt it was disgusting, but everyone pours himself by saying it tastes great, so now he replies to anyone who will listen this already-old Moon, "I, the undersigned Axis of Good, fighting so fiercely against They, or more commonly Axis of Evil states that if you're not with me you are against Me. " 40 years of school life and work experience for that, honestly, what a dream of a destiny to Captain Cook, eaten by cannibals on the Sandwich Islands. At least it's funny.
Then Mr. Val, who lay then on Friday morning, what happened? Why humor he deserted your brain? What is this seriousness that never left you? Each story has its unsavory is that it fell on you.
The right to caricature the Islamic danger, the threat of gauchos (no pun intended) from Latin America, the necessary wars in Afghanistan, Iraq and formerly in Kosovo, the rampant anti-Semitism of French medium and part of his class public especially on the left and of course the extreme right, say so quickly do simple doubling of pro-Arabism on the one hand of them (yes stop here the association between extreme left and extreme right , the object of hatred differs from a man the other, since we hate that your speech is rooted). Any position you have advocated, and much to your honor, a man of the press became increasingly public, makes no bones about the convolutions of his mind Spinoza, ah! good old Spinoza, which you claim, surely you've read, once again hats off! , His first name Benedictus, which recalls the way you preach and distill your absolution as a country priest of the 50s, very IV republic, but also remind the Dutch origin of Sieur de Espinosa, who could explain that you might try the big difference between smoking weed and protesting rigid: you do not have a monopoly on the stereotype Easy easy, it is so simple and still impress your guests, it is a universal sport.
So Spinoza, Mr. Val., Prince of philosophers, as Robin Hood of souls, flying to the rescue of our contemporary thought at half-down, the total drift. Ethics of happiness and freedom, God is nature, determinism first vintage, initiating a orthoathéisme, which became in later centuries a religion like any other, you claim that you could flawless.
What happened to Mr. Val that you inflict this? You inflict it? Because basically, what you do, what you're saying is you it now hires. Us, it amazes us, that we are dumbfounded, that we scalds, it shuts us (not long), that leaves us on the ass, it makes us shit, and finally no, it does not surprise us, it does not surprise us Moreover, nothing surprises us. We saw this coming for a decade, it was obvious he was not only the WTC that had taken two planes in the head in twenty minutes on September 11.
In fact, many people have abandoned the murky waters where you have undertaken gradually. We would have liked to follow you, believe them, as in the Horde Brace, darken behind our tracer to cross new and successful Lapsana, which nobody was never returned so far.
There would be a form of courage in your obstinacy, he was so vain as sadly proud. The path has already been repeatedly opened and not of compromise or betrayal, as you portrayed today, no, these are just common cowardice which we all succumb. Track as the cramped, do ring and strawberry think Tartuffe in theatrical tradition, think of ospreys cry of outraged virtue, consider the arrival of paunchy satisfied, consider blare of 14 July, under the Bastille: blood, consider democracy to Dad that you're one of the flaming-Tontons Macoutes, consider general anesthesia with refusal of resuscitation. Soon you'll have 80 years, and like any person of 80 years, you'll be within your rights, at an age when our words and our actions coincide with a nice nostalgic porridge, the only one that ever managed to swallow that make the Bousquet and Papon other escape justice, that make history and its eternal cycle beyond belief that enlightened men as smart as you, who make you definitely hit a sister Anne of blindness, three in a monstrous, Robespierre, Danton and louix XVI at once, using his voice to get statements from the edge of zinc for the informed and critical thinking.
It's always strange to see the intelligence of the man in the service of a misguided ethics, ideas all made, judgments of truth Assen and confident. You are a symptom, one more if he had, in our society such as those having a nightmare that emerged after the Great Chow 68: born capitalist, forging a good conscience and a background in activism schoolboy audience left, and stupidly back only to the rules he has never known, understood and followed, and unfortunately, never exceeded. It was in the old pots that the only receive
heads you know. Graaaal The National Identity by Philippe Val (with Clos de Vougeot Grand Cru)
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